


Coming Apart  (Part 1)

by Unsentimentalf



Series: Coming Apart [3]
Category: Robin Hood BBC, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Deliberate, provocative, too high on his neck for collars to cover it.  Guy inscribing his intentions on Ianto's skin, hard enough that the love bite would take a week to fade.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Apart  (Part 1)

_ **Coming Apart Pt 1 ** _

Title: Coming Apart (Part 1)  
Fandom: Torchwood/BBC Robin Hood Crossover  
Pairing: Ianto/Jack/Guy  
Rating: NC-17  
Word Count: 4,358  
Summary: _Deliberate, provocative, too high on his neck for collars to cover it. Guy inscribing his intentions on Ianto's skin, hard enough that the love bite would take a week to fade._  
Notes/Warnings: Follows on from "Under His Skin", three weeks later.   
Warnings: references to non-consensual sex. Spoilers to end S3 Robin Hood, end S2 Torchwood.

 

Ianto pushed the door to the small Hub toilet open, stopped in momentary confusion. “Sorry. Please, Guy, can't you just use the lock?”

He backed out, slammed the door. Second time this week. He really didn't need the sight of Guy of Gisborne grinning at him, slightly flushed, both hands moving hard over the man's groin.

Guy called after him. “Now why would I want to stop you coming in? It's more entertaining with two.”

Drop dead, Guy. This bloody place had been awash with hormones for the last three weeks. Jack alternately moping and trying to court him, for God's sake. Guy coming on to him every time he thought Jack wasn't watching. And those two; you could have cut the atmosphere with something much blunter than Guy's confiscated sword every time they were in the same room. Jack seemed to be avoiding the man as far as he could but there were going to be fireworks, sooner or later.

How long was the man going to be? Was it time to talk to Jack about putting another toilet in, somewhere? There were only four of them, for heaven's sake. There hadn't been a problem until Guy had taken up wanking as a five a day habit (or so Ianto and Gwen, quietly comparing notes, had estimated.)

Ianto hovered at the end of the corridor, straightened his tie, unsure whether to wait or go back to his desk and cross his legs for a bit. Which was getting harder to do all the time. Bloody Guy. It wasn't as if Ianto was going to follow his lead. He would wait until he was decently home to shed the day's frustrations as best he could.

Jack's footsteps. Familiar; for a moment Ianto was warmed, then remembered. Ianto turned to warn him. “Guy's in there.”

“I know that. For fuck's sake, Ianto, will you please stop letting him get away with this sort of crap?”

Jack's face was dark. He strode up to the door.

“Guy! Get out here, now.”

The noise of the lock, sliding. “In a moment.”

“Now, Guy!” Jack tried the door, now locked.

“Fuck off, Harkness. I'll be out in a minute.”

“Right. I suggest you stand away from the door.”

Jack walked back a few paces, motioning Ianto behind him, pulled the revolver from his pocket and fired into the lock. The noise in the metal corridor was deafening. Splinters of wood were everywhere. Jack walked forward, pulled the remains of the door open.

“Here. Now.”

Guy had a protective hand over his groin. It wasn't nearly adequate to cover his erection. He was bleeding from a couple of splinters, face and hand. He walked forward. “You are pushing me too far, Harkness.” His voice was furious.

“No. I am asserting some much needed authority around here. This isn't your personal playground, Gisborne. You are here on sufferance. So put that thing back in your pants and listen to me.

“First. You do what you're told. I'm not interested in arguing with you. Tell me to fuck off again and you're out of here.

“Second. Use the sodding lock. That's an order. When there's a door again.

“Third. I don't care why you've ended up with the hormones of an adolescent. Get them under control. Keep your hands off yourself during working hours. You keep coming on to Gwen, I'll invite Rhys around to have a word with you, and I'll make damn sure it's not a fair fight. Bother Ianto again and you'll find yourself staked face down and naked in one of the rougher bits of the city early hours of Sunday morning. I can guarantee that not even you will like the action you'll find there.”

Guy glared at Jack. “It's not easy, you know. Being trapped in here all the time, with you lot. All off limits.”

“None of us are getting what we want, right now. “ Jack glanced at Ianto. “Since you arrived. I'm not inclined to sympathise. Think about something else for a change. Or I'll start lacing the water cooler with bromide.”

Ianto laughed. “Rhys wouldn't thank you for that one.”

Jack curled a lip in a humourless smile. “Why shouldn't he be as miserable as the rest of us?”

He looked back at Guy. “I mean it. You can stop bloody well trying to charm either of us into bed with you. There's too much at stake for either of us to throw it away for the dubious pleasure of getting down with you. Ianto's rules, not mine, but I won't be lured into breaking them.”

Guy shrugged. “God knows, I don't want to stand in the way of you two kissing and making up.” He grinned. “I intend to have both of you, when that happens. Together. Repeatedly.”

Ianto made a small, involuntary noise. Jack shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Incorrigible. You fantasise about what you like, Guy. Outside working hours. Just leave Ianto alone.”

He turned on a booted heel, was off. Ianto remembered that he really needed to use the toilet, visible beyond the ruined and splintered door. “Go find Gwen, Guy. I'll be along in a bit.”

Standing, looking up to the ceiling, trying to think the sort of uninteresting thoughts that would allow him to finally empty his bladder, Ianto heard Jack's footsteps again. He sighed. This was getting positively painful.

“I'll wait.” Amused voice from outside the remains of the door. That was it. No chance. Ianto zipped his trousers up with a little difficulty, turned round. “It's all yours.”

Jack smiled, eyes flickering downwards. “It was you I was after.” There might, or might not, have been a hint of innuendo in his voice. Ianto lost his temper.

“I've just changed my rules. Why don't you have sex with Guy after all? Have fun. Be really inventive. Take your time. Then maybe both of you could leave me alone for a bit and I could at least have a piss in peace.”

Jack laughed, then sobered. “It's getting to you as well, then. Do we really still need to do this, Ianto? How much longer are you going to be thinking about things?”

He stepped closer. “It's making you just as unhappy as it's making me. And God knows, a united front would help enormously in dealing with Guy.”

Ianto stepped backwards, precisely. “No, Jack. It's not just a matter of time passing.” His bladder was insistent again. “This really isn't the time or place.”

“No, it isn't.” Jack's smile was suddenly delighted “Lunch. I'll take you out. Fifteen minutes. Get your coat.”

It had been a while. It was a concession. But, Ianto told himself, they really did need to talk, and the Hub wasn't the place for it. Besides, he'd missed this; the expensive restaurant, the smooth service, the food...ah, God, the food. And Jack was behaving, his hands to himself, not pressuring Ianto, just telling old Torchwood stories that made them both laugh through the starters. Then the serious matter of eating.

Ianto finished first, waited for Jack to tidy his plate.

“Did you mean it, when you threatened Guy today?”

Jack sighed. “Have we had a single conversation in the past three weeks that hasn't been about that man? He's not the issue here, Ianto. At least I hope he isn't.”

Ianto would not be deterred. “Did you mean it?”

Jack shrugged. “Of course. I'm not in the habit of making threats I won't carry out.”

“You'd do that, and walk away?”

“No.” Jack's smile was wry. “Until I throw the bastard out or, more likely, shoot him, he's Torchwood. I'd make sure no one would lay a finger on him. But he doesn't need to know that.”

He looked at Ianto. “Does that satisfy you?”

Ianto sighed. “I had to ask. I didn't know the answer. I don't know what you're capable of, any more.”

“You never did. You just assumed that I was something like you.” Jack shook his head. “I do what I have to. Sometimes it has a happy ending. Sometimes people get hurt. If I spent my time fretting about collateral damage then this city would have gone under years ago. If you have power, you have to make choices. You can't do it out of a rulebook.”

“You don't have a rulebook at all, do you? “ Ianto was suddenly and acutely upset. “Nothing that tells you that rape is unacceptable, that murder is wrong.”

“What I have, Ianto, is priorities. That tell me that keeping you safe was more important than being considerate of Guy's feelings. That made me choose to keep him alive at the expense of his dignity. That mean that I will treat him as Torchwood, as one of us, even though the son of a bitch will not let up until he's laid you again, and I am not going to let that happen. At least not unless I'm there.”

They were back here again. There was no Ianto and Jack any more; there was Ianto, Jack and Guy. It wasn't, Ianto thought, as if either of them seriously considered Guy as a partner. And Guy didn't seem to want either of them that way. It was more that he was there as a constant pressure on them, not just the obvious temptation of hot, uncomplicated, instantly available sex but the need to factor him in all the time, for them both to justify all their interactions with him to each other, Jack too brutal, Ianto too soft.

And now Ianto had clearly not been the only one thinking about Guy's brash claim. It would be an entirely stupid reason to get back together with Jack. Entirely stupid. Still, to not have to worry about keeping anyone at bay. Not worry about whether Jack would really maintain his celibacy for much longer. Just let go, let it happen, with no-one jealous, no-one refused, no-one challenging the fact that he and Jack belonged together. And, hell, it would be mindblowing sex.

This wasn't, Ianto told himself sternly, about sex. This was about whether he wanted to have a relationship with a man who chose rape as a weapon and then took pleasure in it. He said as much, straight out.

“I could have chosen murder.” Jack was bleak. “Put a bullet through him, while you were absent. He is, after all, alien. You'd have forgiven me faster. It would have been much less trouble. Would that have been more moral? Do you think Guy would have preferred it?”

“I don't know.”

“So ask him. Think about my choices, Ianto. It had to be one or the other; don't be so sure that you know which was wrong.”

He smiled, dismissing the subject, eyes warm. “Now, dessert. And coffee.”

Ianto wasn't sure how to raise the subject with Guy. But Guy was quiet, thoughtful as they walked through the streets of Cardiff that evening, headed for HMV. Guy had mastered the DVD player before any other modern technology. He had watched all the Robin Hood episodes, one after another for hours, in the long evenings at the Hub. Ianto had asked Jack about it; the man had shrugged, indifferent. “I have nothing to do with him after you've gone home.” But Guy had finished them all now, so Ianto was taking him out to find something else to occupy him. Not fantasy this time.

Eventually Guy spoke. “Did you have a good lunch?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you going back to him?”

Ianto glanced into a passing shop front. “No. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not at all.”

Guy snorted. “You're a hard man, Ianto Jones. Is it so difficult to forgive a little sex?”

Ianto looked round at him, startled. Did the man really not know? “It's not jealousy, Guy. It's... he assaulted you. Forced you. Can you really not care?”

Guy grimaced. “Not care.” He walked a few paces in silence, started to say something. Then he pulled Ianto sharply down a side alley between two shops, dragged him by the arm halfway down it and pushed him hard up against the brick. Ianto's head hit the wall but his protests were muffled by Guy's mouth on his, tongue forcing his teeth apart. Gun, Ianto thought, but it was in his jacket pocket; he could feel the hardness of it crushed between their bodies, unrecoverable.

A knee pushed his thighs apart. Hands were round his neck, pulling his face forward onto Guy's. Ianto struggled, jammed his fingers into Guy's throat. Almost casually Guy seized a wrist in each hand, pinned them back beside Ianto's head. Then he moved his own head and his mouth closed around Ianto's earlobe. A scrape of teeth, a curl of tongue and he was whispering over Ianto's stuttered protests.

“Three men following. Stopped at the end.”

Ianto's outrage was swallowed by apprehension. He buried his lips in smooth black hair. “My gun.”

Guy released his wrists, moved back fractionally. Ianto's left hand pushed between them, curled round the reassuring metal in his pocket. He wrapped his right hand into the surprisingly soft hair, rubbed his cheek up against Guy's, murmured code into his wrist com, next to Guy's ear.

“Jack. We've got friends.”

Jack's voice came back, steady, reassuring. “With you in,” pause, “Four and a half minutes. Status?”

“We've stopped. They're waiting. Three men, no id.”

“Do they know you've spotted them?”

“Don't think so. We...” He stopped. Guy had cupped his hands round Ianto's hips, started to grind his own, slowly, into Ianto's groin. Ianto's brain was trying to shut down. He bit back a howl of pleasure. “Stop that, Guy!”

“Camouflage.” Guy's lazy voice. “We'd hardly just stop now, would we?”

“What are you...? No, I can guess. Tell that bastard he's got four more minutes of it, maximum.” Ianto could hear Jack's boots pounding on concrete.

“In four minutes,” Guy murmured into Ianto's other ear, too low for the pick-up, “I can make you come. I could do it in two.” His hips moved faster and Ianto drew breath. “Not,” he begged, “if I'm going to get shot at. Please.”

Jack's short-breathed obscenity was clearly audible through the wrist com. Guy laughed. “Next time, then, Ianto.” The pressure on Ianto's groin eased. Guy still moved, still brushed against him rhythmically, hardness rubbing against Ianto's own, light enough that he could almost focus past it. A murmur in his ear. “Watch the alley. There's something I need to do.”

A tongue ran down under his chin, pushed into his neck, lips following, hard against his skin and, realising the objective, Ianto nearly cursed, remembered the com in time. Deliberate, provocative, too high on his neck for collars to cover it. Guy inscribing his intentions on Ianto's skin, hard enough that the love bite would take a week to fade. So much, Ianto thought, curling his toes against the pressure, his fingers still on the gun in his jacket, for Jack's warnings.

And here, finally, was Jack, striding down the alley. Guy stepped back, leisurely, seeming unconcerned.

“No sign of anyone. What did they look like?” Jack was business, for the moment.

Ianto shook his head. “Guy saw them.”

“Guy?”

Guy shrugged. “Two white, one black, maybe brown? I have some trouble with your categories. Dark clothes, no beards or moustaches, short hair.”

“That's it?” Jack was clearly inclined to be unimpressed. “How did you know they were following?”

“There are few hunters in your city. They stand out. They were hunting us, those three. They walked as if they carried weapons.”

“Not much to go on. We'd better get back to the Hub.”

They walked back in silence, cautious and alert, but there was no sign of pursuit.

Ianto tidied up his desk, shut down his screens. Guy was running old samples through an analyser; make-work, Ianto suspected, but Jack had insisted on it. Ianto picked up his coat again, headed towards the door, relieved to be leaving.

“Ianto!” Jack, from upstairs. “Five minutes please.”

Damn. Ianto didn't want to do this now. He draped the coat over his chair, trudged up the metal staircase.

Jack was sitting on the edge of his desk. He stood up as Ianto came in. Cold blue eyes glanced down his body, up again to his face. Jack was smiling, as he did. It meant nothing.

“Shut the door.”

Ianto kicked it with his heel and it shut.

“Did you enjoy that?” Jack's voice was ice.

That wasn't fair. Not at all. Ianto bit his lip, didn't answer.

“It's not a difficult question, Ianto. Did you enjoy it?”

“It could have been better. The presence of three potential assassins not 20 yards away was a bit offputting.” Ianto wasn't going to raise his voice, not this time.

Jack snorted. “Oh yes. Guy's mysterious vanishing hunters.”

“He's got good instincts, Jack. I'd be inclined to trust his judgement on that one.”

“It wasn't his judgement that I was questioning. All a bit convenient, wasn't it?”

Ianto shook his head in disbelief. “You think he invented it?”

“He got what he wanted out of it, didn't he?”

“He got,” Ianto nearly hissed, “four minutes of fake kissing. Hardly worth lying to us for.”

“Fake kissing.” Jack's voice was a sneer. “Have you any idea what you looked like when I found you?”

“Guy was...”

Jack interrupted. “Not Guy. You. Face flushed, lips swollen, pupils dilated. So hard that you could barely walk straight. Your hands were shaking, Ianto. That's what he does to you. And then there's this.”

He stepped forward, and his fingertip brushed Ianto's neck. It was the first time he'd touched Ianto in weeks. Ianto shuddered at the electric sensation. “Jack...”

Jack's fingers rubbed back over the mark. “You could have stopped him.”

Ianto stepped back. “Yes. I could have done. I could have started wrestling with him, and those men out there could have killed both of us. Sense of proportion, Jack, please.”

“Sense of proportion. With him all but fucking you out there, in front of me. While I can't...Tell him to keep out of my way for a while.”

Ianto nodded, turned to go.

“You too.”

“What?” Ianto turned to frown at Jack. The man's eyes were hard.

“Stay out of my way. I'm not in the mood for this.”

Ianto thought about saying something, thought better. Left.

Downstairs Guy was watching him, a half smile pulling up one side of his mouth. “He's not pleased.”

This time Ianto wasn't inclined to make excuses for their newest recruit. This was Guy's deliberate troublemaking. For a moment he was tempted not to pass on the warning. Let the man reap what he'd sown, for a change.

“No. Stay away from him tonight, Guy.”

“I might.” Guy's eyes gleamed. He wouldn't.

Ianto despaired. “Why.” he said, tiredly, “do you have to provoke him?” Uncomfortable thought; he said it anyway. “Are you trying to make him assault you again?”

Guy glanced away, brushed dark hair out of his eyes. He'd refused to have it cut. “No,” he said softly, voice husky. “I'm trying not to fear it.”

Ianto hadn't realised until that moment how much he had been hoping that rape had meant nothing more to Guy than rough sex. His hand was cold against his desk. “God; Guy. I didn't know.”

“He hasn't shown you?”

“Shown me what?” Ianto no longer wanted to be shown things.

“You might as well see. He'll have watched, often enough. There is a camera in my room.” It wasn't a question.

“Make the pictures come. From last night, night before, it doesn't matter. Any night this week.”

He laughed at Ianto's shudder. “Don't worry. He's not on there.” He walked round to look at the screen when Ianto had pulled up the images from the previous evening.

“Make it go fast. Ah...no. Stop. Go slowly.”

Guy, naked, sitting on the side of the bed, one hand around his cock, the other under his balls, eyes unfocussed. Smooth muscles flexed across his chest.

“This is what you wanted me to see?”

“No. I thought you might like to watch, though.” The hand was sliding in slow motion. Ianto stood up.

“I'm going home.”

“Wait.” Guy leaned over, pressed the fast forward key, carefully. “Never mind about that. What you need to see happens early in the morning.”

Ianto sat watching the flickering images, far too aware of the man at his shoulder. Guy was a restless sleeper, naked under a light sheet. The tag was reading just after 4am when he started writhing, face contorted. The audio picked up whimpering, small protests. Under the sheet he was clearly erect.

“Do you want to know what I'm dreaming about?”

Ianto didn't. Couldn't refuse the man, this time. “Tell me.”

Guy watched for a few minutes before saying any more. On the screen his image threw a hand out, thrashed his head in seeming denial, eyes closed.

“He's behind me. Inside. I can't see him but I know who it is. When we are done, I know he will kill me; I can feel the gun pressed against my back.”

Silence again. Ianto watched the man on the bed, ached to wake him from the nightmare, to comfort him.

“I fight it, but I lose. Sometime around now.”

The sleeper arched his back with a scream of anguish.

“Everything explodes, I feel the bullet rip my spine apart. I know I'm dying, and then I wake. Like that.”

Onscreen Guy is upright, shaking, face heavy with sweat. He stays like that for a moment, then gets to his feet, starts to methodically change the sheets.

Ianto was shaken. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. They are, if anything, an improvement on the dreams I had before. At least in these ones it's only me that dies. And it's the nearest to sex that I get, these days.” He looked at Ianto, serious.

“I thought I'd lost the final crumbs of my self respect in the Holy Land. But no, this place keeps taking more away. I provoke him, Ianto, because the last few parts of what was once a man would dissolve in shame if I did not.”

“It wasn't your fault, Guy. There was nothing that you could have done to stop him.”

Guy just raised an eyebrow, turned away. “Go home, Ianto. I'll leave him alone tonight.”

When Ianto entered the Hub next morning the place was silent. It was unutterably strange not to hear Jack's usual greeting. He shed his coat, sat down to the terminal to log in. No sign of Guy; he didn't want to go hunting for the man and encounter Jack by accident.

A few minutes later Guy returned from getting breakfast. Nodded at Ianto, said nothing, disappeared downstairs.

Ianto's mobile shrilled and he jumped. Gwen. “I just tried Jack's com but he didn't answer. Everything all right?”

Ianto sighed. “Yes. Just stuff again, Gwen. It will pass.”

“OK. I've got problems with our boiler; I need to wait in for the repair man. I'll be in around lunch time, unless there's an emergency. Tell Jack, will you?”

Ianto contemplated telling Jack. Decided to send the man a text instead. If Jack wanted to talk to him, he would.

The odd silence persisted. Ianto made coffee for himself and Guy, who was developing a caffeine habit to match the rest of them. If Jack was in his office he stayed there. Ianto suspected that he'd gone out somewhere.

When Gwen arrived she looked round and frowned. “Where's Jack?”

“Don't know.” Guy stayed silent.

“Well, what did he say?”

“I haven't seen him since yesterday.”

She was looking bewildered. “You must have spoken to him.”

“No.” He looked at her face, knew he had to explain. “Guy and I were followed, last night. We...faked making out, till Jack could reach us. He was a bit upset.”

She was looking now at his neck. “Faked.... OK. So have you tried calling him?”

“He didn't want me talking to him.”

Gwen's eyes had widened. “Men following you....” She was on the com. “Jack. Jack, answer please. This is an emergency.” Pause. “Jack, if I don't get a response I'm going to call a code eight.” Silence, and she sighed.

“Someone's taken him. Anything up to twelve hours ago. We're never out of contact for... Damn, Ianto, you're a fool.”

“I know.” Ianto was at the terminal. “His wristband's still transmitting from....Oh.”

Half a mile out in the Bay.

“They could just have thrown it over the rail. The tide would have taken it out.” Ianto said hopefully.

“Yes, or they could have thrown him and it overboard out there. Want to gamble?”

She was on her phone. “Andy? It's Gwen. We need a couple of police divers, in the Bay, now.” Pause “I hope not, but we don't know. I can't tell you anything more. We need them desperately though. Ring me back when you've got them. Thanks, I owe you. Again.”

“Right. Any ID on the men last night?”

Ianto shook his head.

“Anything at all? You must have got something off the CCTV.”

“We haven't actually looked.” Ianto admitted.

Gwen took a breath. “Why on earth would Jack not check up on them? That makes no sense.”

Ianto bit his lip. “I think he thought that Guy might have been mistaken.”

A snort from Guy. “No.”

Gwen looked between them. “You're still not making sense, Ianto. Why wouldn't he check anyway?”

“All right.” Ianto waved his hands in defeat. “He thought that Guy had made the whole thing up as an excuse to get his hands all over me.”

“Oh, for...” Gwen's voice was sharp. “Is there anything the three of you can't screw up? Get on the cameras now, both of you. See if we can trace where Jack went from here, then find your men from last night. It's the only lead we've got. I'll be in Jack's office. There's protocols, for if he disappears.”


End file.
